


A Small, But Important, Problem

by prof_pangaea



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, Gen, M/M, like literal fluffy cute animals for serious, literal fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 20:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prof_pangaea/pseuds/prof_pangaea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a quiet Sunday Dr. John H. Watson is enjoying his morning paper, until Mr. Sherlock Holmes appears with a problem so puzzling even he cannot solve it. </p><p>Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small, But Important, Problem

**Author's Note:**

> The holmesslash list was having the biannual fannish "Why can't people write Holmes and Watson in character?"/"IT'S JUST A HOBBY I DO WHAT I WANT!" debate, when I was challenged to write a story that was both fluffy AND true to canon. I fear I may have ruined the Victorian authenticity with the use of the word "cuddle". OH WELL.

The door opened to admit Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and judging by the manner in which the door then closed, he was not in the best of moods.

"Watson."

He had that imperious air in his voice. I continued to read the paper.

"Watson."

Was that a little hint of desperation I heard? Interesting. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him walk to the side of my chair.

"Watson, for the love of all that is holy --"

"I was unaware that you believed *anything* was holy, Holmes." 

"Watson --"

"Holmes, I am trying to read the paper on a fine Sunday morning, as are, I am sure, many other respectable gentlemen about town. You have no case, you have quite rudely and rather noisily interrupted the serene quiet of the sitting room, and now you demand my attention without so much as a greeting. I know I am generally quite amenable to all of these actions, but I am not so universally. Sometimes a man must stand his ground, you know."

"Watson, please." At the strange note in his voice I looked up. His eyebrows were drawn together in a most distressing manner. "I need your help." 

"What?" I was instantly regretful of my harsh words. "My dear fellow, of course, you shall have it. Tell me what the problem is!"

He stared at me for a moment.

"I shall show you." Holmes dashed back to the door and was swiftly thundering down the stairs. Before I could make up mind as to whether I should follow him, I heard him coming back up. 

"I am at a complete loss!" He said as he hurried back into the room. I saw that he held something in his hands. "You are the only man in London to whom I can turn." He held out the object -- I saw now that it was a daintily woven basket.

Inside of it were four tiny mewling kittens. Adorable kittens. 

I contemplated them. 

The kittens rolled around. Adorably. 

"Holmes." He looked at me with earnestness. "Do these kittens carry a deadly plague?"

"No."

"Are they the final piece of evidence in a baffling murder?"

"No."

"Have they, in fact, killed a man?"

"No."

"Then what in blazes is the matter?!" I roared. Holmes seemed taken aback. 

"Watson -- what do I _do_ with them?" This was really too much.

"...Cuddle them?"

He fixed me with a withering stare. "I am well aware of the usual use to which kittens are put."

"Then I fail to see the problem, Holmes."

"Watson! What am _I_ to do with kittens? A basket of kittens, left on my doorstep with a note saying, _'I am sure that you will direct all of your considerable powers to finding the true owner of these darling creatures'_!" 

"At least this mystery person did acknowledge that you have considerable powers."

"Watson!"

"Holmes, why don't you just give them to a few of your Irregulars? Despite your own aversion to the activity, I am sure that among the crack young minds of your organisation are a few boys who would be delighted at the prospect of cuddling a kitten."

Holmes regarded me with narrow eyes for a few moments. "Hmm. Yes." He stared down at the basket in his hands. One kitten yawned, showing sharp, tiny teeth. 

"In the meantime why don't you take them down to Mrs. Hudson. I'm sure she will take good care of the 'darling little creatures' until you find a place for them. Who knows, she may want to keep one for herself. A replacement for the terrier you poisoned a few years ago."

"Watson, she asked _you_ to do it, I merely seized the opportunity to help both her pet and myself out of our respective misery."

"Ha! I always knew you disliked that dog!"

"Calling that yapping... creature a dog is a disservice to that commendable species."

"You are an impossible man, Holmes." He gave me a little half smile. "Although I suppose I should be thankful that you have no desire to cuddle with kittens. It leaves more time for me."

He made a sound of pure disgust and walked out of the room, taking the kittens with him. Satisfied, I continued reading my paper.

 

 

end


End file.
